Flash of Insight
by Skeexikx
Summary: Haddock discovers that Tintin causes other's to look at the lad in a certain way, a way he'd never thought of before... HaddockxTintin


Not making any filthy lucre with this. Don't own Tintin & Company - Moulinsart does.

More of a phsycological study then PWP, though there is some sex in here. Basically my take on Captain Haddock's discovery that Tintin has a tendency to cause other's to react in a certain way, a way that the good Captain never gave a thought to...

This all started by the way, from the first sentence. Such is the nature of the muse.

Standard grammatical apology, any mistakes are due to fumble fingers, sheer blindness and complete disregard for the English language.

Hope you enjoy, reviews are not solicitated, but are welcome.

...

"How much for the boy?"

Captain Archibald Haddock stopped in his tracks and gazed with confusion at the swarthy man who was clutching at his sleeve, a grinning leer on the pock-marked face.

"Scuse me?"

"The boy, the pretty redhead. How much?" queried the man, licking his lips.

Haddock didn't quite break the blasted troglodyte's neck, but he'd be bearing the marks of the Captain's fury for a long time.

...

Still hearing the reverberating sound of slamming his bedroom door behind him when he'd returned to the suite, Haddock swallowed the second of two drinks and closed his eyes as the liquid burned down his throat and set fire to his belly. As he poured yet another one, his mind continued to rage just as hot.

Curse that insufferable, landlubbing shark, that blisterin' blue freshwater politician, that..that…bastard. There. Call it what it was. He had half a mind to go back and thrash the man some more.

As he poured yet another shot, looking at the bottle as if to ask why he was even bothering to drink it glass by glass, he heard the knock on the door.

Blast!

He debated about ignoring it, playing tent, even possibly sneaking out over the balcony, but knew it would just be extending the agony. At some point or another, the boy would catch up to him. Tintin was nothing if not tenacious.

Taking a deep breath, he growled "Come in." hoping his tone would give the lad pause.

No such luck as the door opened and the baby faced youth stuck his ginger haired head in, to regard the Captain with concerned grey eyes.

"I'm sorry to bother you Captain," He began and Haddock couldn't fail to notice that the young man was probably not sorry, and was also looking at the drink in his hands with obvious disappointment.

"But you are most certainly upset about something. Is there anything I can do to help?" The youth continued to query.

"Thank you lad, but I'll be fine. Just have to calm down a bit."

"May I ask what made you angry?" replied the boy, stepping into the room and approaching the older man, the white terrier at his heels.

So much for thinking he could get the lad off with a vague reply - once Tintin had a puzzle to solve, there'd be no help for it until he got an answer. But that didn't mean the Captain had to give the exact reason.

He scowled into his drink for a minute or two and then surprisingly found the answer. Well, at least it was something.

"My cap! Some freshwater pirate wanted to buy my cap."

"Your..cap?" Tintin echoed, his face questioning.

"Aye! My cap. Attached to this cap I am, had it for years. Gotten it to fit just right, most comfortable cap I've ever had."

He could tell the lad wasn't quite convinced. Even the dog was looking at him suspiciously.

"Umm, Captain, I can understand getting attached to various pieces of clothing, after all I am rather fond of this blue sweater, but…It is just a cap after all." The lad pointed out in his usual, insufferable logical way.

Haddock knocked down the drink that was in his hand and debated about pouring another. He could feel the lad's eyes on him and held back. He hated to disappoint the boy, and he'd actually been quite abstinent during their latest case. But if ever an instance called for a man to calm his emotions, this was it. Not that his emotions were getting any calmer. Quite the opposite actually.

"Just a cap! By thunder, boy! You have no idea, do you, just how important a Captain's headgear is, do you!" he bellowed, making the boy wince and take a step back and the dog to cower a bit and give out a small whine.

"Why," He continued, lowering his voice but not by much and beginning to stalk about the room, waving his arms about. "It's every sailor's dream, getting this badge of honor. Not just everyone can wear a cap like this, boy! It's..it's…It's a rite of passage, as important as…as…as graduating, or passing a test or…"

He had run out of words as his passion ratcheted up and he came to a stop, glaring at the boy.

Tintin had raised his hands and taken another step back.

"Ok, ok Captain, I think I understand."

"Hmmmffff." Haddock snorted and his eyes went from the boy's somewhat sympathetic face to where the little white fluff of a mutt was sitting, still regarding the Captain with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Another small shaft of inspiration shown through.

"It would be like someone wanting to buy that scruffy mutt of yours, you wouldn't like that, now would you?" He challenged.

Tintin didn't answer at first, tilting his head to look back at the Captain as he contemplated the man's allegation.

"Well, no. I wouldn't like that, but no offense, Snowy is a bit more than just a piece of clothing…" Tintin raised his hands again as Haddock's countenance darkened. "Please Captain, I understand, I think I do, but it just seems rather extreme, getting so upset over someone offering to buy your cap."

Haddock definitely needed another drink. He closed his eyes for a long moment and when he opened them again the boy was still standing there. Blast.

"Lad, I can't possibly explain to you the importance of this cap. You're a bright lad, but you've never been a sailor and there're something's you just won't understand."

Tintin gazed at him some more and he could see the boy metaphorically throw up his hands at the whole situation. Turning, the boy and his dog made to leave the room.

"Very well Captain. If there is anything you need, I'll be in the other room." The boy called over his shoulder. Haddock couldn't miss the look the boy gave the glass that was still in the other man's hand. He knew the boy disapproved of his drinking, but there were times and places where the mind-numbing effects of whisky were a most welcome respite.

And this was one of them.

...

Haddock sat on the bed and considered the half empty bottle of whisky. He could feel the liquor beginning to calm him down, making things fuzzy and not so hard and bright. He could still feel the anger and rage bubbling just below the surface. He glanced around for something to break, but had enough sense to know that action would bring the lad in, wondering what had happened and asking more questions and Haddock didn't want to get into that again.

Sighing, he deliberately set the bottle down and reclined fully, folding his hands over his chest. Thoughts and emotions were swirling within him and he needed to ground himself. It was so very tempting to drown everything out with the rest of the bottle. But he was trying so very hard to live up to the lad's expectations. The boy meant the world to him - would follow him anywhere, stand between him and death itself, indeed - had saved his life countless times. Saved each other's lives countless times.

He never forgot to say a prayer every night thanking the fates above for sending the boy tumbling through the porthole so long ago. He shuddered to think what would have become of him if that pipsqueak tuft of ginger hadn't become a part of his life.

Blinking rapidly, Haddock began to recall various adventures and incidents with the lad and could feel his chest begin to tighten. The lad was so energetic about going on his cases, with seemingly little regard to his own safety. Granted, the boy did seem to have the luck about him and usually got by with nothing more serious than being knocked out and tied up, but still. One of these days…

One of these days, harm was going to come to the boy, and when and if that happened, there wasn't enough whiskey in the world to keep the Captain from enacting revenge. That was one of the reason's Haddock always accompanied the youth, even if he did so grumblingly. He knew he couldn't protect the boy from everything, nor forever when it came to that.

But he vowed that by all the thunderin' typhoons and billions of blisterin' blue barnacles he was going to make sure to keep the mayhem at a minimum. He loved the boy way too much to do anything else.

As he lay there, he heard those hated words once more – 'how much for the boy…'

Sitting up he downed a slug of whiskey. And then lay back down, fists clenched, teeth bared, body tense. He really should have killed the man. How could anyone even think of the boy in that way! The boy was made to be worshipped, protected, adored.

Growling, Haddock sat up once more and took an even greater swallow of liquor. If felt so good, burning down his throat. It brought nice warmth to his belly and even some tears to his eyes. Glancing across the room at the closed door and envisioning what was on the other side, he once more put down the bottle and lay down on the bed.

He really was going to have to get a hold on himself. If he continued this behavior, Tintin would continue to ask questions. And though he knew Tintin wasn't quite as naïve as he looked, he still wanted to keep this from the lad. Some things were better off not knowing about.

Scowling, he vowed to keep a better eye on the lad. If one perverted troglodyte was out there, then there was bound to be more. And the Captain would fight each and every one of them off. Nodding his head, he felt himself calm down as he now had a plan of action.

Haddock yawned and closed his eyes. All of this thinking was making him tired. He'd nap until it was time for dinner. Turning onto his side, he made himself comfortable and soon drifted off.

...

He had been sneaking glances at the boy since waking up from his nap, somewhat refreshed but still irritated by the earlier events. He still couldn't believe that someone would actually offer him money for the lad. Did they really think he would sell the boy? He'd sell his left leg first.

All during dinner he had kept his eye out for anyone giving the lad any sort of odd look. He was suddenly aware of the gleaming eye that appeared to look at the boy with more than just passing notice, the licked lips as if they wanted to devour the lad, and the barely concealed look of hunger as if they wanted the boy served on their plates instead of meat and vegetables. Most of them were from men, but there were a few women as well that seemed to take an inappropriate interest in the boy.

At first he put it down to being obsessed over the day's occurrence and reading more into things that weren't there. But when he happened to glance over at a table, he noted one of the men lean over and say something to his dinner guest, their faces smirking, their attention clearly on the young lad.

Just as he had started to get up, both men gave him startled glances and began to devote themselves to the meals in front of them. Scowling, he gave them the 'eye' and then smiled at Tintin, who was looking at him curiously. He then deflected the lad's query with some drivel about how he thought he had spotted some old sailing companion, but was mistaken.

Usually he stayed for dessert, but this time he hurried the two of them out of the restaurant and back to their rooms, pleading an upset stomach, which of course had Tintin all concerned. Perhaps he should have told the lad he had a headache, it would have been the truth.

Pretending to go into the bathroom to take some stomach settling medicine, he then joined the lad for some late night reading.

Haddock kept staring at the boy.

Ever since the earlier unsettling events of the day, he'd had been trying to spot just what it was about the lad that could inspire such sinister thoughts.

In between keeping the lad from spotting him taken a visual inventory, Haddock managed to take a visual inventory.

And found the lad to be pleasantly attractive, perhaps a bit on the youthful side, but certainly not drop-dead, jaw dropping gorgeous. His features were too soft, too baby faced.

And yet…There was, now that he was looking, something about the boy that just drew the eye.

The boy exuded a gentle beauty that seemed to glow from his peaches and cream complexion on which a smattering of freckles enhanced. That shone from his large, expressive grey eyes, a grey that could turn stormy or clear. His hair suited and complemented him, a brilliant red-gold in sunlight and warm copper in shade, cut short except for the tuft atop his forehead. Though small in stature and slight of build, his body was strong and lithe.

The soft curve of cheek, the small, slightly rounded nose, gentle arc of forehead and chin, coupled with a smooth skin that showed no promise of beard gave him the aspect of a youth.

He could be 15. Perhaps 18. Maybe even 22. He was ageless.

And beautiful.

Haddock suddenly found himself growing hot. He grabbed the glass of whisky he had purposefully not touched and downed it all in one gulp.

Great blisterin' typhoons. Now that he was actually observing the boy with something more than just a friendly interest, it was obvious that the boy was…delectable. Haddock froze as he caught himself licking his lips. Thunderin' barnacles! Next he'd be leering at the lad! He reached for his handkerchief and mopped his brow, mysteriously sweating as if he'd run a marathon.

"Captain, are you all right? You look…ill. Is dinner still not sitting right?" Came a soft, concerned voice.

Of course, of course the boy would notice. Nothing seemed to escape those bright inquisitive eyes. However, at least the lad's worry gave him an out.

Standing up on shaky legs, Haddock gripped his stomach and bent over a bit. "Yes, er… I do believe I am still feeling a bit under the weather, excuse me." And hurriedly walked to his room, making sure his door was closed. He was definitely in distress, and the last thing he wanted was for the lad to walk in on him.

His bending over had not just been to fool the lad into thinking he had stomach troubles, but to hide a growing arousal. Sufferin' freshwater politicians! If the lad could do this to him, who had never given a thought to such a thing, who loved the lad and wanted nothing but to protect him – well, no wonder the boy was on the receiving end of ogling glances. Hellfire, it was amazing the boy had never been propositioned, let alone abused.

Haddock stumbled to the bathroom, closing and locking that door just to be on the safe side. He lost no time in getting to work, trying to make short work of it. But as he stroked himself into submission – the arousal way too strong to go away all on its own – he kept thinking of running his hands over soft ginger hair, caressing smoothly rounded cheek or forehead, looking deeply into grey eyes that darkened with their own passion, of kissing small, moist lips, driving his tongue deep into the delicious mouth, driving himself deeply inside the lad, rocking him faster and faster…

He moaned. No! He should stop this, stop thinking about the lad. Think about…ships! Yes – steel ships, standing at the wheel, steering the ship as it cut through the grey waters, surging through waves. Waves crashing upon the bow that was piercing into the clear water again and again, rocking back and forth toward a red-gold sunset –

Blast – that wasn't exactly helping either.

Finally he got it together and managed to bring himself to climax, without crying out the lad's name. Cleaning up, he adjusted his clothes and decided to make an early night of it, knowing he was going to be tossing and turning till morning.

The last thing he expected to find was Tintin sitting on his bed, wearing nothing but a smile.

"Lad!" He gasped.

"Oh Captain, you don't know how long I've waited for you to look at me the way others do. Finally, we can become one, the way we were meant to."

The Captain was certainly right about one thing, he tossed and turned all night long.

Fin.


End file.
